Josh Imhof | features editor

It’s not easy growing up, and lately I have been finding myself longing for the past. Over Christmas break, I spent about three weeks living at my Pap’s house to recover from a medical procedure. During this time, I reminisced on old memories and got to relive some of them.

Pancakes and bacon with a giant naval orange for breakfast. Sneaking around the house at 9 p.m. after my Pap fell asleep downstairs in his recliner. Sleeping in the same bed I did with my Granny when I was a little boy.

All of these memories brought some joy in a time when I was in a lot of discomfort. After I left, I moved on and began work for the new semester when I realized I forgot my leather jacket at my Pap’s. I drove back to grab it, and on the ride home I noticed something that has stuck with me since.

My jacket smelled exactly like his house.

For all of my time going over there, I have consciously and subconsciously absorbed the unique house smell of Granny and Pap’s. It’s a mixture of well-water, bacon, old-timey aftershave and wood. While this combination may sound odd to the uninitiated, for me it is home.

Odd smells like these have always fascinated me because of their ability to trigger such vivid memories. They bring me back to (usually) better days.

One that brought me back recently was entering a dry, cigarette-scented apartment building. The smell stuck to the hairs in my nostrils and took me back to my days living in an apartment like that with my dad.

It took me back to memories of long summer days, sleepovers with friends, and late nights staying up too late playing video games. I haven’t been there in more than five years, but the smell immediately teleported me back, and it was like I was there again.

Another scenario came the other day when I caught a whiff of plastic that reminded me of the smells of my action figures as a kid.

With those memories came a sense of longing and sadness. I wanted so badly to be back at that apartment and at that house when my granny was alive. However, no matter how vivid, it is never enough to bring her back.

Fortunately, these smells give me a glimpse into the past and allow me to briefly relive these memories. I am left to wonder what memories I will be transported to next.

Josh Imhof can be reached at imhofj@duq.edu